Force Majeure
by hannahwrites89
Summary: force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: What part of my dream was real? All of it? I touch my face and cringe in pain. This is real. The parking garage was real. It all happened. This isn't a nightmare. This is reality.
1. Oh, what a beautiful morning

**Author's note:** This story takes place a good seven months after the season 4 finale and is about Alicia and Will (or what's left of it). This means that Alicia is with Cary at "Florrick, Agos and Associates." Will is still at L/G. Even though the story picks up seven months after, I will definitely go back to what happened in those passed seven months with flashbacks. Everything else you need to know will be explained as the story progresses!  
**Summary: **Force Ma·jeure noun. 1: Superior or irresistible force. 2: An event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will. Starts off seven months after Alicia left L/G, with flashbacks.

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**Force Majeure**

Chapter 1 –Beautiful Morning

_Oh, what a beautiful morning. Oh, what a beautiful day. I've got this wonderful feeling,  
everything's going my way __– _Oscar Hammerstein II

**Thursday, 6:45 AM**

_Oh, Cary you've got to be kidding me, _is all I can think as I hear him explain the situation.

"Look. I wouldn't ask you this if I didn't have to."

"Well, how sick are you?" I ask, while trying to pour myself a glass of orange juice with one hand, juggling my phone in the other.

"Let's just say I spend more time in the bathroom than in bed," Cary answers. His voice is raspy and muted. He does sound sick.

"Ok. That's enough information. I get it," I reply and hurry back to my bedroom to gather my stuff. "But can't we ask one of the associates?" I catch my reflection in the mirror. God, I'm not even wearing any makeup yet.

"Alicia… They don't stand a chance against David Lee. You know that. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

I sit down on my bed and put on my shoes. "Cary… Yes, I know. But do you really think _I_ am the best candidate to do Lockhart/Gardner?"

"No one from our firm is. Look, I don't know what happened that night of the class action between you and Will, but you'll just have to get over it. You can't avoid going there forever."

_Well, I do know what happened that night of the class action, _I think to myself. But we had decided to never talk about that again. Either way, Cary's right. I grab my laptop and charger and walk back to the kitchen.

"I know," I finally reply. "So, what's her name again?" I manage to get my laptop in my bag with one hand.

"Sandra Dilaney. You met her. Jenna will fill you in on the details."

"OK, I'll call her." I answer. I grab a pen and paper to jot down her name, but when I do my elbow pushes against something. I look up but I'm too late. The glass tips over the counter. With a loud bang, the glass hits the kitchen tiles and snaps into pieces. The orange juice streams over the kitchen tiles.

"_Shit,"_ I mutter.

"You ok?" I hear Cary through my phone.

"Yeah…" I say as I observe the mess. "I'm fine. I call you when we're done."

"Ok. Talk to you later."

Orange juice everywhere.

I glance at my watch. I'm already late. Great. Just… _great._

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**Thank you for reading!**

_Preview for next chapter: _on to Lockhart/Gardner...


	2. David & Dilaney

**Author's note:** Thank you for the great reviews and welcome to the new followers :) Hopefully I live up to the expectations of David's appearance!  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G.

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**Force Majeure**

Chapter 2 – David & Dilaney

_"Thou hast seen nothing yet."  
_– Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, _Don Quixote_

**Thursday, 4:19 PM**

I can't believe this is actually happening. Back in the all too familiar elevator once again. I look at my client – or Cary's client, to be precise – Sandra Dilaney, standing next to me, fumbling with her hands. She's nervous.

"I know, you were expecting Cary," I tell her. "But I know this firm and we're gonna do well in these negotiations," I say in an attempt to make her feel better.

She looks at me. "Alicia, it's not that." She brushes her long blond hair behind her ears. "It's just… I hate to say it, but George always hated women like you. Strong and professional, you know? It makes him… _aggressive._ It would have just been better if I'd be here with Cary. He won't like you."

"I think, he wouldn't have liked either of us," I smile. "And it doesn't matter what he likes or doesn't like. What matters is that we're here to get what you deserve. We're going to be fine. I promise."

She nods and gives me a faint smile. She doesn't buy it. And frankly, neither do I. I'm terribly unprepared, and I hate myself for it.

Luckily, this time I don't have to work with Will. That definitely didn't work out last time I was here. Or it worked out too well, maybe. Either way, the few times we had seen each other in court after that hadn't been pretty. We screwed up, we knew it and had a silent agreement never to talk about it again. And that's that. Here's to hoping I won't run into him. The less I see of him, the better.

All I know is that he won't be in these negotiations. David doesn't need him. Since David thrives on anger and performs best when he's annoyed and pissed off, today's negotiations will be magical.

**Thursday, 4:23 PM**

"I'm not looking forward to this," Sandra says as we sit down in the waiting area. "Do I have to sit next to him?"

"We'll be sitting on the other side of the table," I answer. "You'll sit next to me, and I'll do the talking." I look around the floor, and I realize I'm constantly checking if Will's around. I should stop that.

"He will humiliate me," Sandra sighs.

I look back at her. _Focus, Alicia._ "He might try to act out, yes. But it won't get him anywhere." I give her a reassuring nod.

Then, all of a sudden, her eyes grow wide. "You OK?" I ask.

"What the hell, Sandra?" I suddenly hear a low male voice behind us. I turn around, and then see why Sandra was staring. That must be Mr. Dilaney.

"Why are we doing this?" He bursts in the waiting area and walks straight over to Sandra. She leans back in her chair, but he towers over to his wife. He looks dangerous.

"You don't want this. I know you don't. Do you actually think I would let you go like that, huh? _You _fucked up what we had. I didn't. So why are we here? Negotiating? About what exactly?"

"Mr. Dilaney," I interrupt. "This is not the time." He doesn't even grant me a look.

"Oh, I think, this is _just_ the time. Don't you, Sandra?"

"Mr. Dilaney," I repeat again and get up from my chair. "Please take a step back."

He gives the both of us a violent look. "You don't need to tell me what to do."

"Sir, don't make me ask again. I'll have to call security." I look around to find someone to help me. But the receptionist left her desk, and I don't know how to get security in here. Now I get what Sandra meant when she said 'aggressive'.

"George, please," Sandra mutters.

I think of what to do, but then, I suddenly hear a voice I know all too well.

"Oh, would you look at that!"

I don't have to turn around to know who just made an appearance.

"If it isn't Alicia Florrick gracing us with her presence." David Lee…only he is capable of squeezing that much sarcasm in one sentence.

I turn around. "David," I then greet him and offer him a small, polite smile.

"All grown up and independent so I see?" He says, lifting one eyebrow and given me a cynical grin.

I don't answer that one and just give him one of my stares in return.

"Ms. Dilaney," David continues and shakes Sandra's hand. Mr. Dilaney seems to have calmed down now that David joined us.

"I don't believe you've been properly introduced to my client," David then says, gesturing at the man next to him. David looks small and insignificant next to Dilaney. And Dilaney isn't even that broad or muscular himself. Instead, he has a normal posture, but there's something about him that just makes me want to back off. Dark, almost black eyes stare at me.

"Let me introduce you to Alicia Florrick," David continues. "An expert at… Shall we say… _hand holding_?" I purse my lips at that sneer.

David happily continues. "And since I'm an expert at well, everything else really, we have nothing to worry about."

"Good afternoon," is the only thing I decide to say in return.

Dilaney just stares at me. Barely lets me shake his hand.

"So, you're the one telling my wife what to do, huh?" His voice is cold and flat.

"I'm one of your wife's lawyers," I reply calmly.

"You put her up to this?" There's a darkness to the sound of his voice that creeps me out.

"I'm here to represent my client and her wishes," I just state in an attempt to sound professional and calm. I don't know what to do with this guy.

"Hate to interrupt your little one-on-one, but let's get going, shall we?" David leads the way to the conference room and holds the door for us.

I roll my eyes at him and walk into the room. Sandra and I sit down next to each other, David and Dilaney at the other side.

"Oh, Alicia, this is going to be so much _fun," _David says, crossing his legs and folding his hands together.

"It's my highlight of the day, David," I reply dryly.

"I have to say, if they had given me a heads up I'd be up against _you,_" he continues as he takes a bowl filled with colored candies from the cabinet behind him. "I wouldn't have taken so much time preparing."

I just ignore that and get my files out of my bag.

"How long is this going to take?" I hear Dilaney ask David.

"Oh, not long I'm sure," David replies as he pushes the bowl to the middle of the table.

Then he gives me another one of his triumphant smiles.

"M&M's, anyone?"

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**Thank you for reading!**

_Preview for next chapter: _Dilaney certainly lives up to his reputation.


	3. Black Out

**Apology: **I'm sorry for slow updates, I'm doing my best but the combination of a fulltime job and an internship are taking their toll. I did update my other story, To Keep The Good Alive, as well, so check that out if you'd like to read more!  
**Author's note:** This story takes place a good seven months after the season 4 finale and is about Alicia and Will. This means that Alicia is with Cary at "Florrick, Agos and Associates." Will is still at L/G. Even though the story picks up seven months after, I will definitely go back to what happened in those passed seven months with flashbacks. Everything else you need to know will be explained as the story progresses!  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: I always thought I would do better in these situations, but here I am, and now I don't know what to do.  
**Thanks: **To my beta RomanticSoutherner for amazing tips, patience and motivation.

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**Force Majeure**

Chapter 3 – Black Out

_Tell me that you'll open your eyes_ – Snow Patrol

**Thursday, 5:26 PM**

Oh, my God. I don't think I can stand sitting opposite David any longer. Just the _way _he eats those M&M's. How he nibbles on them, and then cracks them with his mouth half open….

But David and his eating habits are the least of my worries at this point. It's Sandra I'm worried about. She's intimidated. Not by David, but Dilaney.

"Perhaps its time for a short break?" I propose.

Dilaney's dark eyes have been shooting violent looks from across the room and they send a shiver down my spine each time.

"Tired already?" David smirks at me.

"Pacing myself," I reply and look over at Sandra who gives me a thankful smile.

"Can't we just end it right here?" Dilaney interrupts, kicking his feet against the table leg. He gestures at Sandra. "She's not even enjoying it. Backing off because you finally realize how ridiculous this is? Look what you're doing to her."

Now he's addressing me. "Huh? Forcing her to be here, to get money out of this. This isn't what she wants. It's pathetic really."

"Sir I…" I don't even get to finish my sentence because he shoots up from his chair and bends over the table.

"Lost for words now?" Then, he violently spits a _fuck you _in my face.

Startled I lean back in my chair. This is getting ridiculous. What else am I supposed to say? I look at David, hoping he feels some desire to control_ his_ client.

"George, let's get some fresh air." David gets the hint_. Thank God._ He gets up as well and they both leave the conference room.

I look back at Sandra. "How are you doing?"

She just shrugs.

"We haven't had much time together to prepare for this," I start and shift my chair so I can look at her a little better. "I'm sorry for that. You filed for divorce due to irreconcilable differences. Is there anything I need to know about that?" I decide to ask.

"I don't think so," she just answers.

I try to get to look into her eyes, but she cleverly manages to avoid that. There must be more to it. I've seen many women feeling intimidated by their ex-husband, but this is different. Dilaney is not like most ex-husbands. He creeps me out. His behavior tells me something's off.

"I get a sense that you are very scared of him, Sandra," I try. "He scared _me _just now."

"I'm just nervous. I told you, he can get very aggressive. That's who he is."

"Is that why you wanted a divorce?"

Again, no response.

"Is there anything you haven't told Cary or me that we should know? Because if there are signs of-"

I stop in the middle of my sentence. I realize I can't force her into saying things that maybe aren't true. I can't put words in her mouth.

"Alicia, I know you're only trying to help, but this isn't… I don't like these negotiations. I don't like George, that's why we're here… That's all there is to it."

We shouldn't continue like this, I realize. When my gut tells me something's wrong, that's usually the case.

"I'll tell David we will continue at a different moment." I state. I sort out the papers in front of me and put everything back in my bag.

"Alicia?"

I look back at her.

"Thank you. For today."

"You're welcome," I smile at her. "You should go home. We'll talk soon," I say and give her a gentle pat on the shoulder. I walk with her to the elevator, and when she's about to step in, I decide to give it another try and block the doors with my hand.

"Hypothetically," I start with a soft voice trying to get her attention. She gives me a questioning look. "If I was to represent a woman who is a victim of domestic violence, the divorce proceedings would change dramatically. There would be no negotiations. My client would be protected from her ex-husband, both in court, _and at home,"_ I emphasize. "It would be drastically different."

I look in her eyes, hoping she got the message. She just nods at me. "Ok." The doors close. Not sure if that worked.

And then, when I'm about to head upstairs to David's office, I spot _him_. I feel my breathing increase as Will walks down the hallway. Completely unprepared for his sudden appearance, I just stand there.

He can see me. I know, he can. For a split second, his eyes looked at me. But he doesn't acknowledge me. He keeps his head up high, walks on and looks straight ahead with a cold, blank look on his face. A look I am still getting used to, and it is about time that I do because it was the only look he had granted me for the past seven months. Except for that one time, but that doesn't count. Even then, that wasn't close to how we used to be. Nothing was how it used to be anymore. Why did we do that to ourselves?

**Thursday, 5:38 PM**

"Done powdering your noses?" David sneers at me as I enter his office a few minutes later.

"My client is reconsidering… _aspects _of this divorce. We'll have to set a new date to continue negotiations."

"Good God, Alicia," he says, scornful. "Playing the domestic violence card?"

I don't respond to that. _Shit. _

"Of course, I already asked David if Sandra might go down that road. Let's say he didn't like the idea too much. But do whatever you want. I'll just be here waiting for your next marvelous move."

I decide not to respond to that. "Have a nice day David."

"Oh it's a wonderful day already Alicia. Bye bye," he waves.

**Thursday, 5:45 PM**

I'm back in the elevator, completely pissed off by David's behavior. As I walk out into the parking garage, I get my phone out to text Cary.

While texting Cary, I walk toward where I parked my car. I don't look up from my phone until I'm there. And as I do, I'm startled by the appearance of Dilaney. What is he doing here?

_Be careful, _I tell myself. _Stay calm. _Instinctively, I look for a way out. I look back at where I came from, but there is no way I could make it back to the elevator without him catching up with me. He's in between me and my car so I won't be able to get there either. _Don't panic. _Maybe he just wants to talk. Don't do anything unpredictable. Just be polite.

"Mr. Dilaney?" I say.

No response. The cold, dark look in his face creeps me out. He just takes a few steps closer towards me and observes me closely.

I clench my hand around my phone. _Should I try to dial 911?_ And then, what?

"I was waiting for you." There's a triumphant tone to his voice.

"I don't think we should be talking here," is all I manage to respond.

"Oh, I'm not here to talk." Another step closer.

Intuitively, I take a step back, but my heel touches concrete, and I realize there's a column behind me. He's closing me in.

"I just want to make myself clear."

_Act quickly. Do something. This isn't right. _A million thoughts flash through my mind. _Kick him. Hit him. _

But then both his hands grab my wrists. My whole body tenses. As he pushes me closer to the column, my phone drops out of my hand. From the corner of my eye, I see it hit the concrete with a loud bang. The battery cover snaps off.

I always thought I would do better in these situations, but here I am, and now I don't know what to do. I just freeze at the force of his hands clenched around my wrists. He breaths heavily, right in my face.

"And now you're going to listen to me." He's forcing me to look in his eyes. I try to look away, but he's so close and holds me with so much force that I don't have any other options.

"You need to leave my wife the fuck alone." His breath smells of alcohol and smoke, it makes me gasp for air.

Is this all? I hope so. I don't reply and just wait for it to pass. For him to let go of my wrists. I try to look around him, hoping that someone else is arriving in the garage. I do hear a car, but they won't see us.

"HEY!" He then shouts and pushes me even tighter against the column. He places his leg in between mine, lifting his knee up against my crotch. It's making me feel sick.

"No distractions," he breathes in my face. "Did you hear what I just said?"

I nod quickly. Now I'm really scared.

"Did you?" he hisses. "I don't want you to be around my _wife_. Talk her out of this divorce."

I feel infuriated. I shouldn't say anything else, I know that. I should just agree with him and hope that he'll let go after that. But I'm too proud.

"I can't do that." I say.

His eyes grow wide as the words roll over my lips. Then, he pulls me away from the column and slams me back. I lose my balance for a second, and the back of my head smashes against the column. I gasp as the pain rushes over me. My head starts buzzing.

One of his hands lets go off my wrist and presses down on my chest with enormous strength. I gasp for air. He pushes his hand up to my throat. _Oh, my God, what is happening?__.__ Make it stop._ _You need help, Alicia._

I try to shout for help, but his hand quickly covers my mouth. It makes me want to choke, but I can't do anything.

"Shut the _fuck _up," he spits at me. I'm trembling now. He pulls at the shirt I'm wearing. Two buttons snap off as he does so, uncovering my bra.

Embarrassed and exposed, I try to cover it up. But as I try to move in his strong hold, he suddenly pulls back his arm and with enormous force, his clenched fist punches my jaw. The impact of the hit smacks my head against the concrete mass again. I'm overpowered by enormous pain.

The buzzing in my head increases, a loud beep takes over and my vision disappears.

Then everything turns black.

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**Thank you for reading, love to hear your thoughts!**

_Preview for next chapter_: Time for a flashback… Hang in there ;)


	4. Collision

**Author's note:** Guys! You're the best, thank you all for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I was blown away by your amazing compliments! And now… flashback time to tell you what happened about 1.5 month earlier. Don't hate me for not continuing where we left of, lol! Next chapter, I promise!  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: Then, our eyes meet. Accidentally. And it makes it all worse.  
**Thanks: **To my beta RomanticSoutherner for amazing tips, patience and motivation and taking the time to correct this chapter despite her inconsistent workschedule and long hours!

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**Force Majeure**

Chapter 4 – Collision  
(Flashback to 43 days ago)

_You better stop and try to think. Look what you're doing.  
_– Roisin Murphy, Ruby Blue

**Monday, 06:23 PM **

I never was a proponent of trying, but both Cary and Brad have a tendency to be overly ambitious. And that resulted in them being convinced we needed the class action that Lockhart/Gardner had started preparing just a few weeks before we left. Precisely half of our clients chose to go with us. Luckily, I wasn't there when Will found out, and Cary took the hit. Then, the clients decided they wanted to get both firms in the preparations, and Cary agreed. And now we're stuck in this mess. Brad with me and Will with his new junior associate Helena on the 27th floor of Lockhart/Gardner.

"We'll do better in negotiations," Will says for the third time now and pushes himself off the table he was leaning against.

"Some of them want to take the shot. You can't just ignore that," I reply.

"They'll benefit from a settlement," he repeats, more annoyed this time. "And we'll get it. Don't force court because you want to make an impression."

"Don't force negotiations to avoid court," I shoot back. He's pissing me off. I get it. I get why he hates me, he has a right to. But this is incredibly frustrating. Maybe that's his purpose, I'm not sure, but it's not very efficient.

He just stares at me, his eyes filled with disapproval.

"I'll do it," I suggest. "Let me look at the files."

"You don't think we already did that?" That's Helena. I frown at her suddenly chiming in. I forgot there are others in the room.

"I think, it won't hurt to check again," I answer her. "There might be a good court case in one of yours."

Will rolls his eyes and sighs deeply. "You know what? Fine. I'm done discussing this."

"Thank you," I say. He doesn't acknowledge it and turns to Helena.

**Monday, 06:31 PM **

I follow Will going up the stairs to his office to get the files. We don't share a word. He walks fast, doesn't wait up for me and definitely doesn't want to walk next to me.

"They're over there on the couch," he mumbles indifferently and walks to his desk in a straight line.

"Thanks," I simply respond, standing in the middle of his office. It's the first time I'm back here after my resignation.

I really don't want to sit on _that _couch so I just kneel down next to it and sort through the files I need. Once I got the right ones, I get up.

"How are you?" I ask in an attempt to start a civil conversation, the files clenched against my chest.

He looks up from his laptop and gives me a stare that tells me I shouldn't expect an answer.

"The conference room is free," he says bluntly and looks back to his screen.

The way he's bend over his laptop tells me he's not going to talk any more so I just head out.

**Monday, 07:24 PM**

"I think, I may have found a contender," I reluctantly announce as I walk back in his office an hour later.

"What? The Kidston one?" He pushes his chair away from his desk. "They'll refuse."

"I could try talking to them."

"Didn't you just hear what I said? They'll refuse."

I don't like his tone. I get that he's upset. So am I. But we _have_ to work together one way or another.

"If we're not going to try, why I am I even here?" I ask and take a few steps into his office.

"You tell me. And I never said I wanted to try. _We _aren't trying anything."

"Did you even explain the possible benefits of court?" I ask, crossing my arms across my chest. His behavior is starting to bother me by now. "You're disfavoring your clients."

He shakes his head. "It's not in the best interest of the Kidstons. It's not in the best interest of the class action and—"

_Really Will? _"I'm starting to think you're actually avoiding court," I interrupt him.

"Excuse me?" He stands up at that, clearly offended. I know I'm entering dangerous territory here, but I mean it.

"I think, you're avoiding going to court," I repeat.

The blank look on his face changes to an angry stare straight into my eyes. He leans against his desk and rubs his eyes.

"God, Alicia. You really don't get it—"

"I wouldn't know why else you'd give—"

"—I'm not avoiding anything," he then throws back at me. There's a provocative look in his eyes. "I am not like that."

I know what he's getting at. He doesn't have to say anything else, and he knows that too.

"Ok," is all I say in response.

"Anything else?"

"Nope." I clear my throat and walk over to his desk. "Here," I say and hand him the other files.

As he takes the files from me, his hand touches mine. Unintended, I know. Still, I can't help to flinch at his touch. For a split second, our eyes meet. He notices my reaction. We don't say a word. I'm nailed to the ground, overpowered by the response of my body. For a moment, we do nothing else but stare at each other. Something clicks. As if we just silently agreed on what's going to happen next.

His eyes swallow me up. The energy in the room clouds my mind. Everything around us seems to go up in some sort of fog, and he is the only thing left I can see. He looks a me with that frown, his mouth half open, caught just as off guard as me.

We're just inches apart. I want to pull away, but my body doesn't let me. There's no stopping this.

I lean in. I hesitate for just a second, but it's as if I have no control over my body anymore, and my lips reach his. I kiss him. His lips on mine bring me back to what I didn't allow myself to feel for a long time. It's not a chaste kiss. It's strong and desperate almost.

Immediately, his hands crawl up around my neck, he grips my hair and pulls me closer. My hand clenches onto the fabric of his shirt. I'm starting to feel light headed, and I realize I'm pushing my body against his, wanting more.

His hands find their way to my thighs. Our kiss deepens. He pushes up the material of my dress. Automatically, I get my hands to his belt and unbuckle it. We're not taking our time, or building up to anything. His hands glide over my hips and thighs, but it doesn't feel good.

It doesn't live up to the fantasies I'd been having for months.

Then, our eyes meet. Accidentally. And it makes it all worse. We get a glimpse in each other's souls, and it brings us back to reality. In his eyes, I see the love he once had for me and what I felt for him. But it's clouded by anger.

"I can't do this," Will mutters. His hands are still on my hips as he says that.

"Will—". I start, but I have no idea what to do.

"This was a mistake." He lets go off me and reaches for his own belt.

I quickly smooth down my dress. As I look back up to him, the cold stare that had just disappeared is back and seems stronger than ever.

"You should leave."

I simply nod. Now we are worse. Everything that just happened depreciated the value of what we once had.

There's nothing left. There's too much pain and frustration.

And I'm responsible.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!  
**

_I hope you enjoyed and that you'll see how this matters for what's next! I'd love to hear what you think as always. Ch. 5 is already written so it won't take long before I'll take you out of your misery ;) Thanks again for all your kind words!_

_Preview for next chapter: _Back to the parking garage.


	5. Anyone But Me

**Author's note:** You guys are so kind with your reviews! I'm amazed by your kind words, thank you so much! Hopefully, this chapter lives up to the expectations. I'd love to hear your thoughts. This time around, it's Will's point of view.  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G:My heart stops and so do my footsteps. My whole body freezes at the sight of her, collapsed against the column. Eyes closed.

* * *

**Force Majeure**

Chapter 5 – Anyone But Me

"_Please, don't stand so close to me. I'm having trouble breathing.  
__I'm afraid of what you'll see." - _Christina Perri, Distance

**Thursday, 5:26 PM**

I immediately know it's her, standing at the elevators. I would recognize her from any distance. In any given situation. I'll always see her first.

_What is she doing here?_ I decisively ignore her as I pass through the hallway and walk straight towards my office. I am about to head out early today, but I don't want to end up together in the elevator or the parking garage with her. So I sit back down behind my desk and check my e-mails.

I'm avoiding her.

I know, it's not the adult thing to do. But I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that I'm in love with a woman who truly doesn't love me back. Avoidance does seem to be the best remedy.

I had to shut her off emotionally, but physically, I've had a hard time staying apart. I learned that the hard way.

In the heat of the moment, I thought I could separate the two. I couldn't. _Stupid. _It had all been so incredibly _stupid. _

Damage was done. Irreparable damage. Now, we have a silent agreement not to ever talk about it again. And I don't want to. We're over and done.

**Thursday, 6:03 PM**

I let out a relieved sigh as the elevator doors slide open to the parking garage. Time to get home, order pizza and watch the game.

"Sir! Wait up!" I hear behind me.

I turn around to see where the voice's coming from.

A woman hurries towards me, panicking, "I need some help over here."

"What's wrong?" I ask, concerned and make my way over to her.

"Thank God. Walk with me. I just found her. She says she got beat up. She's conscious now, but I think she needs a doctor, and I just don't know what to do, should I call an ambulance?"

"Who are you talking about?"

"A woman. She's right over there."

"Let's just calm down," I try and walk with her. I'm really not the kind of person to help out in this sort of situation. My medical knowledge is zero, I'm not good with sick people, and I really want to get home in time to–

_Alicia_.

My heart stops and so do my footsteps. My whole body freezes at the sight of her, collapsed against the column. Eyes closed.

I can't process this.

_Alicia._ It hits me again.

Immediately, I kneel down in front of her. I want to touch her face but she's so bruised that I'm afraid I'll hurt her. What happened? _What happened to you? _

"Alicia, can you hear me? It's Will."

She barely responds. The way her head is tilted to one side doesn't look good. _Who did this._

"You know her?" The woman asks.

"Yeah… Yes, I do."

"Should I call an ambulance?" The woman asks me.

"No," Alicia mutters._ Thank God,_ _she's conscious. _

"What happened?" I ask. It takes a while, but she opens her eyes.

She winces as she tries to sit up. "He hit me," she mumbles. She doesn't look up to me.

"Who did this to you?" I'm filled with anger as I observe the swelling on her jaw. Then my eye falls on her wrists, both red and bruised. _What did he do to her._

"Dilaney. David's client."

I don't understand. "How long have you been lying here?" I try to get her to look at me.

"I don't know." She swallows heavily. Her eyes are barely open, staring at the ground. "I just need to get home."

She tries to sit up a bit more and tries cover her chest. That's when I notice how her shirt is ripped open. _What the hell did this guy to her._

"Wait. Here," I say as I take off my jacket. Reluctantly, she leans forward so I can drape it around her shoulders. Then I spot blood on the column. It turns my stomach.

"You hit your head?" I ask.

She nods with a groan.

"Ok. That's it. I'm calling 911."

"I'll do it," the woman volunteers from behind me. I already forgot about her.

I turn around. "Thank you."

"You want me to call Peter?" I turn back to Alicia and ask.

She shakes her head.

I frown at that. "You probably should."

She shakes her head again.

"We separated," she says. Barely audible, but I think I heard that right.

I don't know what to make of this. There's too much going on.

I rub my hands over my face, thinking of what to do. "Then I'll go with you."

"Will. Don't."

"Stop it," I answer. "I'm going with you."

I look back at the woman after she finished the call. "I'll take it from here. You can go now. Thank you."

"Thank you for everything," Alicia mutters with an exhale as she tries to smile.

"Ok," she answers hesitantly. "Take care."

I turn back to Alicia. Her jaw looks bruised, her shirt is ripped open, and there is blood on the column behind her. It's making me feel sick and dizzy just looking at her.

Her eyes are still focused on the floor, avoiding mine. I know why. Of course I know why. But everything I was thinking earlier today doesn't count. Not now anyway.

We sit there for a while, I don't know how long. Then, her eyes break from the ground and look up to me. Defeated. "It hurts _so_ bad." She says it as if she's finally allowing herself to feel the pain.

"I know," is all I manage to say in return. It breaks my heart to see her like this. It feels strange to just sit here and not do anything. I want to hold her. I want to carry her out of here. But I know I shouldn't move her.

She leans back against the column. I've never seen her hurt or in pain like this.

One tear escapes her eyes and slowly streams down her face.

Instinctively, I lean in and carefully wipe the tear from her cheek with my thumb.

She shivers, lets out a sigh and for a split second, we look in each other eyes. She looks scared and distressed. In too much pain to protest, she lets me rest my hand on her cheek.

"We'll get out of here in a few minutes," I say in attempt to comfort her.

There are so many emotions rushing through me. I want to take her hand, I want to make her feel better but I don't know if she wants me to. So I pull back.

I know she probably wishes I hadn't come down to help her. Anyone but me. Honestly, I was hoping to avoid her as well. But it doesn't matter now. Nothing matters now but getting her to a hospital.

So, I just sit next to her, on my knees. Waiting for the ambulance to arrive. She closed her eyes again. I fear she'll slip back into unconsciousness. I lean in and gently squeeze her shoulder. "You have to stay awake," I tell her. "Can you do that for me?"

Her eyes flutter open at that. She doesn't say a word. She just looks at me, straight at me, as if I'm a focus point to not sink away again. I realize I have to keep talking to her until the ambulance arrives.

"You're going to be fine, I promise," I whisper. "Just a few more minutes."

I carefully squeeze her shoulder again as I see her eyes closing again. "Come on, stay with me."

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**

_And thanks again for all your sweet reviews. I hope you enjoyed this and it was worth waiting for :)._

_Preview for next chapter: _Will in the waiting area of the hospital, trying to wrap his mind around what's going on.


	6. Keep Breathing

**Author's note:** I love writing this story so much, and your reviews make it even better to do so. I am so sorry for slow updates. The deadline of my thesis is getting closer. Just a few more weeks before I can really put my energy into writing this story again. Please, stick with me. I know about slow updates and how they can ruin the reading experience. However, I love this story so much and have a lot of plans so I'll definitely continue and I'll try to update sooner this time.  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: She doesn't know that I'm here. That I'm with her. Because I'm not. What was I supposed to say at the admin? It's complicated?  
**Thanks: **My beta RomanticSoutherner for great tips and comments as always. It was her birthday this week :)

* * *

**Force Majeure**

Chapter 6 – Keep Breathing

_All we can do is keep breathing now.  
_– Ingrid Michaelson (Keep Breathing)

**Thursday, 7:23 PM**

I wonder if she even knows I'm here. I haven't seen her since the ambulance drove off. I just stood there. Lost, in the middle of the parking garage unsure of what to do next.

It's been over an hour since I sat down in the waiting area. I haven't moved an inch. These plastic chairs are uncomfortable. I bury my face in my hands and rub my eyes.

She doesn't know that I'm here. That I'm with her. Because I'm not. I'm not her colleague, not her friend, not her partner. _What was I supposed to say at the admin?_ _It's complicated?_

From where I'm sitting, I can see the door of the examination room she's in. First, the paramedics left. A doctor came in. A nurse. A police officer. Another doctor. And I'm worried sick.

"Weren't you that guy in the parking garage?"

I look up at the man walking up to me. It's one of the paramedics.

"Yeah… yeah, I was."

"Want some?" He points at the coffee machine. _Coffee. _I nod.

"You know, you could have gone with us in the ambulance."

I don't really respond.

He hands me a cup of coffee and sits down on the chair next to me.

"Can you tell me how she's doing?" I try to sound unaffected, but it comes out much more worried than I intended to.

"Conscious and alert during the ride…" He stirs his coffee. "But you never know in these situations."

"Right... Thank you."

"They didn't give you any updates?"

"Ah… She doesn't know I'm here," I explain reluctantly, not wanting to explain why things went down the way they did.

He frowns at me. Luckily, his beeper goes off. "Duty calling." He gets up from his chair.

Conscious and alert. That's good, right? _That's good, Will. Stop worrying. She'll be fine. _

But what if she isn't fine? What if it all goes wrong? I'd have to call her kids. Would I have to pick them up? I'd have to call Peter first. Or her mother. Or Owen. And then? I wouldn't know how to tell them. What should I say? Maybe I should have called them right away when it happened. Too often, I heard stories where people seem fine, but then suddenly just… stop breathing.

I can't. I can't let my mind go there. I can't prepare myself for that, and I don't want to, and I don't_ need_ to.

_Stop it, Will. _I'm all worked up, and I don't know how to calm down.

It's just that I'm completely powerless, and it frustrates me. I need to be in control. Of my life, my work, my feelings, all of it. Now, I'm not in control of anything. How am I supposed to sit here and wait?

But I could have been in control. I could have avoided this. If I hadn't waited for her to leave, if I would have just left the office when I wanted to, I could have prevented all of this. I would have heard her cry for help, and I would have been there.

I would have gotten her out of there.

Frustrated, I shoot up from my chair. I need fresh air to catch my breath and calm down.

**Thursday, 7:50 PM**

I found a way outside, and now I'm on the phone with Kalinda.

"David's client?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Dilaney, I think she said. I'm not sure."

"I'll check."

"Once they get this guy, let me know. Okay?"

"Sure. I will."

She's silent for a moment.

"How is she?" Her voice is not as persevering as usual. Hesitant almost, as if she's asking a forbidden question.

"There's a doctor with her now. I don't know."

"You're in the hospital with her?" She sounds confused.

"Yeah," I reply, rubbing my eyes again. "Long story."

"You're staying?"

"Not sure," I answer in all honesty. "Just let me know if they're going after the guy."

"I'll keep you posted."

**Thursday, 08:12 PM**

Back in the plastic chairs. I'm hungry, but I don't feel like eating.

I need to make up my mind. What am I going to do? Stay here? Call someone? I glance at the examination room, and at that very moment, a nurse walks out.

I get up and make my way to her. "Hi, I'm here for Alicia Florrick."

"Yes?"

"She knows me. I don't know if she wants me in there, so… could you ask?"

She raises her brows at me, observes me from head to toe. "Your name?"

"Will. Will Gardner."

She walks back in to the room. A few seconds later, she opens the door. "I guess, it's okay."

_I guess? _What is that supposed to mean? A little hesitant, I walk in.

"Hi," I start. My voice is hoarse. This is making me nervous. She's laying on her side, her back towards me.

I walk across the room and sit down on a chair in the corner. She looks up at me.

"I didn't know you came all the way here."

"Of course, I did," I respond. I rest my elbows on my knees and cup my face in my hands as I look at her. It comforts me, seeing her in a bed like this. Still in bad shape, but cleaned up a little and within the safe environment of a hospital.

"You should go home," she pleads. "Really, I'm fine."

"You're not fine."

"Well, I will be." She props herself up on her elbows, but moans as she does and sinks back down.

"Need help?"

She rolls her eyes at me. I probably shouldn't ask that again.

"Even if they do clear you, who's going to drive you home?"

"I'll call a cab."

"Alicia, I know you don't want me here. But then I need you to call someone else."

She turns on her back.

"Want me to call Owen? Your mom?"

"God, _no_," she replies.

"Anyone else?"

She doesn't respond and stares at the ceiling.

"What did the doctors say?" I decide to ask, changing the subject.

"I need a head CT," she sighs. "Check for internal bleeding, fracture… I don't know."

"Right."

"They gave me stitches," she motions at her head.

I nod. "Anything for pain?"

She shakes her head lightly. "Only Advil."

"Nothing stronger?" I ask stunned.

"They can't do that, nothing numbing."

She gives me a quick look, as if she's thinking what do to with my presence. She turns back on her side, towards me.

"Will, you don't want to be here," is what she finally says. I didn't expect anything else.

"Do you want me to go?" I ask in return.

She sighs. "I don't know." She breaks eye contact and stares back at the ceiling. "We're –"

She doesn't finish her sentence.

I look at her for a moment and decide to get up and move my chair closer to her bed. I sit down again.

"Look," I start. "I'm here now. I don't have any plans for tonight…"

She opens her mouth to interrupt me, but I cut her off.

"Let me just wait for the CT results. If they'll clear you, I'll get you home. If you have to stay the night, I'll leave."

Again, she turns her face to me. "We ignored each other in the hall way this afternoon, Will. Don't pretend."

"I'm not." I just reply, staring back at her. "I'm staying."

The look in her eyes softens. As if she just gave up fighting me, accepting that this is how it's going to be.

I wish you didn't fight me that hard_. _I can't help to think as I look at her. We wouldn't be this complicated. We wouldn't be such a tragedy.

Then, the nurse walks back into the room. "CT is ready for you."

* * *

**Thank you for reading!  
**

_And, once more, your reviews have made me incredibly happy. Such kind words!_

_Preview for next chapter: _The results of the CT are in. Will said he'd bring her home if they clear her, or leave if she needs to stay. Which one is it going to be?


	7. Two Hours

**Author's note:** Finally getting back into a good writing rhythm, because I did it! I handed in my master thesis! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Another flashback is going to follow after this chapter. I really enjoy writing this story, and I'm excited to give it my full attention. :)  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G. I stand there, unsure of what to do with this situation. I look at her. Despite the bruising, she looks oddly peaceful, curled up in her own bed like that. Then, I realize I'm watching her sleep. I shouldn't be doing that. Instead, I turn around and turn off the light on my way out.  
**Thanks: **To my beta RomanticSoutherner and to all those loyal readers! Love you guys!

* * *

**Force Majeure**

Chapter 7 – Two Hours

"_By tomorrow, we'll be lost among the leaves."  
_– Daughter (Tomorrow)

**Thursday, 11:11 PM**

They cleared her.

"No abnormalities, no swelling, no bleeding, no fracture," is what they told her.

I offered to drive her home. She nodded, mumbled thank you, and that's all the conversation we had. Now, we're in my car, driving. Alicia is in the seat next to me. She winced in pain every time we took a turn or had to stop.

I find the silence between us unbearable. We used to have comfortable silences. We must have. I can't recall a specific one though. I seem to have forgotten every comfortable moment I ever shared with her. The past months, her… _actions_ have been so infuriating that they got rid of any good memory I ever had of her. There's absolutely _nothing_ left.

Still, there is an, apparently unconditional, urge that makes me want to see her safe. That makes me want to care for her. Then again, I would have done the same thing with anyone in a similar situation. At least, that's what I've been telling myself all these hours in the hospital tonight.

I glance to my right as we stop for a traffic light.

"You should call your kids," I say as I look at her.

She doesn't respond.

"Someone, anyway."

"I'll call Zach in the morning."

I sigh and shake my head in frustration. "What about tonight?"

"I don't know," she mumbles, barely audible.

I watch her sit there, leaning against the window with a blank stare on her face.

"I know, it's bad," she sighs as she notices me looking at her.

I decide not to say anything. Instead, I restlessly tap my fingers on the steering wheel.

It _is_ bad. The bruise on her jaw told me that, the blood on the column told me that, and the fact that she was barely conscious when I found her told me that. I wonder how long it will take her to recover from a trauma like that. Not just the pain, but also the attack in itself. But I guess it's not up to me to worry about that.

The light turns green, and we drive off again.

I keep staring at the road as I ask the question that simply needs to be asked.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Silence.

I don't even know if I'm really offering. I'd rather not stay. I'd rather not be here with her in my car in the first place.

The silence continues. I feel bad for asking. She can't say yes. She can't say no. She needs to be woken up every two hours, the doctor told her that.

I glance to my side once more. She closed her eyes.

I focus back on the road, glad to have an excuse to avoid any other conversation.

**Thursday, 11:30 PM**

"You okay?" I ask as the elevator starts moving upwards, and I see her hand clenching on to the railing.

"Yeah," she mumbles. The way she stands there, with that tense grip on the railing tells me she's not. She loses balance for a second.

"Dizzy?"

"Mhmm."

I take a step closer towards her. "Wanna sit down?"

She just shakes her head, her gaze focused on the floor. This isn't going well.

Instinctively, I wrap my arm around the small of her waist. I don't look at her as I do, trying to keep distance in any way possible. Her body tenses up, but she lets me.

As we arrive on her floor, Alicia leans against the wall as I search for her keys. I open up the door and turn back towards her, ready to offer her my arm again. But she mutters, "I'm fine," and heads in.

I watch her make her way into the kitchen, and it doesn't take long before she loses her balance again. She grabs the counter for support. For a moment, I stand there in the hallway and watch her barely hold herself together. Am I supposed to leave? I'm not going to turn around and leave now. She might as well pass out.

"You should lay down."

I walk over to her. "Come on," I order her decisively as I wrap my arm around her waist again. This time, she leans against me much more willingly. I'm not sure for what reason. Pure pain and exhaustion, most likely.

I desperately try to ignore the fact that I'm in her apartment. Or that I'm heading towards her bedroom. I try to shut all those thoughts out. I lead her to her bed and hold her as she sits down.

Immediately, she sinks down in the pillows.

"God, it hurts," she groans as she turns on her side, her eyes already closed again.

"I'll be right back," I say and walk back to the kitchen.

**Thursday, 11:41 PM**

I'm in her apartment.

It only hits me now, standing in her kitchen. _I'm in Alicia's apartment._ Alicia's kitchen. I wasn't planning to set foot in here ever again.

_Nothing changed_, I think to myself as I look around. Reluctantly, I open one of the cabinets to get Alicia a glass of water. I know what cabinet to choose. It's the same as where she kept the wine glasses.

I open up the tap and stare at the water filling up the glass. This night turned out differently than expected. And that's an understatement.

I walk back to her bedroom. "Here," I say as I put the glass down next to her. She doesn't respond. _Is she asleep?_

"Alicia?" I ask quietly. No response. Her heavy breathing tells me she did fall asleep.

I stand there, unsure of what to do with this situation. I look at her. Despite the bruising, she looks oddly peaceful, curled up in her own bed like that. Then, I realize I'm watching her sleep. I shouldn't be doing that. Instead, I turn around and turn off the light on my way out.

I can't leave, I realize as I'm back in her living room. She needs to be woken up every two hours. I glance at my watch. That would be 01:30. I could wait till then. Give her at least two hours sleep. And then what?

I don't know anymore.

I get back to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. I sit down on one of the bar stools and look around the kitchen. There's a half full wine bottle standing on the kitchen counter, as usual. I smile as I remember one night here. She was about to pour in two glasses of wine, but I stopped her from doing so and lifted her up on one of the counters to kiss her. She giggled, wrapped her legs around me, and I carried her to the bedroom. We never went back for the wine.

I break away from that thought and get up from the stool. I don't want my mind to go there. It pisses me off. I don't want to think about any of that. About what we did, or how we were. It doesn't matter anymore. We're over and done. That thought used to hurt, but that hurt has been replaced by anger. Slowly, that's changing into indifference. I really want to stop caring about her, to forget all of it and be unaffected by her presence. Being here is not helping, but I'll get there.

I get my laptop and sit down at the dinner table. I try to move as little stuff as possible, but as I move away a pile of papers, my eye falls on a letter with an all too familiar logo that I would recognize anywhere. One quick glance at the letter tells me it's addressed to Zach. Smart kid. I briefly smile at the though. Then, I realize how intrusive this is. I shouldn't be going through her mail. I decisively put the pile of papers on the other side of the table and open up my laptop.

**Friday, 01:22 AM**

As expected, the knocking didn't work. I'm back in her bedroom. The door opening allows just enough light for me to see her silhouette.

"Alicia?" I try with a whisper. No luck. "Alicia, are you awake?"

The fact that she's not responding makes me nervous. It takes me back to the parking garage. She's still just as pale as she was when I found her.

I sit down on the end of the bed. "Alicia?" I try again. "It's Will." I gently squeeze her arm. "You need to wake up for me." Another squeeze.

Then, her eyes flutter open and grow big at the sight of me. Her body tenses up. "What are you doing?" She sounds stressed and confused.

"Calm down, it's okay," I whisper, relieved she's responding. "Go back to sleep."

The moment of panic seems to pass as her body relaxes again. "You should go," she whispers, but as she does, she already falls back to sleep.

**Friday, 03:30 AM**

I can't. I'm too tired. I blink against the brightness of my laptop screen as I thoughtlessly scroll through my e-mails. I haven't even done anything useful in the past two hours. I've just been staring and keeping myself awake. I break my gaze away from my laptop and head back to her bedroom.

I do the same as I did before, sit down on her bed, whisper her name, and gently squeeze her arm. She moans a little, but stays asleep.

I know, I need to wake her up. That's the purpose of being here after all, but right in that moment I find it hard to do so. Maybe it's because I'm so incredibly tired myself, but the sight of her sleeping brings back thoughts and feelings that I haven't had in a long time.

I haven't felt anything in the past months. I was numb. I still am. But the events of tonight had been so hectic and unexpected; I am affected by it in some way.

I watch her for a second. If I didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the bruises, this could be us two years ago. I loved watching her sleep; it could keep me up for hours. I always hoped to be the first one up in the morning. I loved it when that happened.

I sigh and rub my eyes. I shouldn't be doing this. And this is not two years ago. This is _now_. And a lot has happened in between that time. Too much. And I blame her for it.

I gently rub her arm again. Her eyes flutter open.

"You okay?"

She mumbles "mhmm" but doesn't open her eyes.

I guess, a response is enough. "Okay, good," I whisper. Once more, I walk back into her apartment.

My eye falls on the couch. Oh, I could just lie down, for an hour. Just get a little bit of sleep.

No. I don't want to do that. I should just pull through. So, I sit back down behind my laptop. But my eyes just simply don't allow me to do any more working or browsing. I hold my head in my hands and rub my eyes once more.

My thoughts wander off to Alicia once again. This time to that afternoon when she walked into my office and simply dropped the bomb. Out of nowhere. I hated myself for not seeing it coming. How could I not? Looking back, it was all too obvious.

And now I'm her apartment. For what exactly? I sigh and allow my self to close my eyes for just one brief second.

I'm _so_ tired.

I need this. Just _one_ second.

But I don't manage to open my eyes again, and I slowly lose control over my fatigue.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! **

_And thank you for all your support and kind reviews, I'm overwhelmed! Hopefully I live up to your expectations._

_Preview for next chapter: _Flashback time. Will has an interesting lunch.


	8. Naked Lunch

**Author's note:** Flashback time! Still from Wlll's point of view. I really challenged myself attempting writing this flashback. It took a while to decide whether or not I should try it, because this character is especially tricky. Still, I hope you'll like my take on him!  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G. Flashback: "Mr. Sweeney, is there something I need to know?" I try to sound persevering. He shakes his head. "No, No. You'll figure it out soon enough. Or well, I can only hope you do. Or not. It depends," he rambles.  
**Big thanks: **To my beta RomanticSoutherner for coming up with the brilliant idea for this character to play a part in the flashbacks. And _everyone _who reviewed, I'm blown away by your kind reviews! Oh, and MarySunshine81 for catching up with all chapters, and it isn't even a Diane story, lol!

* * *

**Force Majeure**

Chapter 8 – Naked Lunch  
(Flashback to 211 days ago)

"_Well, as you can plainly see, the possibilities are endless like  
__meandering paths in a great big beautiful garden."  
_- William S. Burroughs (Naked Lunch)

**Tuesday, 02:32 PM**

"Still in a sexual relationship with that lawyer of yours?" He raises his brows at me. "Hmm?"

I clean the corners of my mouth with my napkin. "We ended it." _It's none of his business. Why did I even answer that?_

"What a shame." He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. "She reminded me of my first girlfriend… High school sweethearts," he drinks from his wine before he continues. "Can you imagine?"

_No, I can't. What, did he kill her too?_ I don't really respond.

His eyes search mine. There's something going on in those eyes. There's _always _something going on in that twisted mind of his, and his eyes seem to be sending out exactly the amount of weirdness he's willing to let out. Some inappropriate, disgusting thought that he desperately wants to share with the world simply for the shock value of it.

But there's more to this lunch today. Sweeney would never have lunch just to discuss the firm in general while throwing in some insolent remarks here and there, like we've done so far.

And why did he ask to have lunch with me? He _always_ asks for Alicia. Didn't he call her during election night? Something's up, and something's different. Ever since we sat down, I've been trying to figure out what exactly that is.

There's still a triumphant glare in those eyes, anticipating on how I'm going to act next.

"Mr. Sweeney," I then start. "My next case starts within the hour. If there's a point you want to make with this lunch, now is the time."

"All right, all right." He seems disappointed that I'm narrowing his space to tease me.

"I'm just going to ask you one question," he starts, staring into my eyes.

"Shoot," I reply, decisive.

He scoots his chair closer to the table and leans in, resting his head on his hand.

"Are you…aware?"

"_Aware?" _I repeat, confused.

"Hmm…" He leans back in his chair.

"Aware of what?"

"Well… We can conclude you're not."

"Aware of _what_?" I say again, colder his time.

He smirks. "No, no, no. I could go around tossing out hints like Hansel did with his breadcrumbs, but we all know he couldn't find his way back so I don't see the point."

I give him a confused look. _What the hell is he talking about?_

"Hansel from Gretel?"

_I got that. _"Yes, I know," I answer slightly annoyed and roll my eyes.

A small smile creeps on his face. This is exactly what he wants, to annoy me.

"Mr. Sweeney, is there something I need to know?" I try to sound persevering.

He shakes his head. "No, No. You'll figure it out soon enough. Or well, I can only hope you do. Or not. It depends," he rambles. "Well, I think I should go and ask for the check." He contemplates for a second, then looks back at me. "And if you don't figure it out, it's a reassurance that I made the _right_ decision."

"Decision to what?" I snap. _Cut the crap, Sweeney. _I realize I'm getting worked up about this, and that's exactly what he wants.

"Oh, look at that. A paranoid… someone who knows little of what's going on."

I frown at him.

"It's a _quote_. William Burrough's Naked Lunch? Learn your classics, Mr Gardner."

He waves his credit card to the waitress. "This one's on me."

As we wait for the waitress to get back to us, he turns back in his chair. "And I'm sure she still adores you," he then says. "I can't imagine it being something personal."

I frown at that. "Who?"

"Come on," he rolls his eyes. "Everyone can tell you two were doing it."

I give him a blank stare. Are we talking about Laura again?

"_Aleecia," _he pronounces her name in that off way only he manages to do. "And who wouldn't? Professional, smart… and _toned, _too. Have you seen that body of hers?"

This is getting so inappropriate. I try to act casual, but it's not really working.

"Ahhh…" He leans in and taps his fingers on his chin. "You actually have. Doesn't surprise me one bit. She makes your cock spurts soft diamonds in the morning sunlight now, doesn't she?"

_What did he just say? "_Excuse me?" I ask stunned.

"Oh relax. I'm still quoting my _beloved_ William Burroughs."

With another one of his grins, he gets up from his chair as the waitress comes back with his card. "Exciting times ahead," he chuckles and taps me on the shoulder.

Frowning, I watch him leave the restaurant. I just sit there, processing, trying to figure out what point he was trying to make. Or was he just trying to mess with me? What decision? I don't know anymore. And what's up with those quotes? Am I supposed to read something into_ that_?

"Sir, can I get you anything else?" The waitress snaps me out of my thoughts.

"No, thank you," I reply hastily and get up. I don't have time for this now. I'll be needing a scotch and a quiet office to think this through.

_What the hell is going on?_

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**Thank you for reading!**

_You guys are the BEST readers and reviewers. All of your kind messages just make me so incredilbly happy! I love interaction with my readers. Really, it means a lot and makes my day!_

_Preview for next chapter: _Back to Alicia's apartment and also back to Alicia's point of view: "I head in my apartment. My eye falls on the dining room. My heart jumps as I realize there's someone in there."


	9. Morning After

**Author's note:** Again, again blown away by your amazing reviews, the new followers and simply all your support. Your words have honestly helped me through a rough couple of weeks where I lost someone close to me and another family member suffered a stroke. Knowing you were waiting for a new chapter, I found the enthusiasm to write again and I hope you'll be happy coming back from the flashback. Also, Alicia's point of view!  
**Summary: **force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: What part of my dream was real? All of it? I touch my face and cringe in pain. This is real. The parking garage was real. It all happened. This isn't a nightmare. This is reality.  
**Thanks: **to my lovely beta Jen or RomanticSoutherner who's always there to help me improve!

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**Force Majeure**

Chapter 9 – Morning After

"_You dragged me up and out, out of the darkest place."_

- Snow Patrol (Give me strength)

**Friday, 6:20 AM  
**

_Can you tell me your name?…The neck brace is just a precaution…have to stay awake.… I'll get you home… CT…Tell me what year it is…Dilaney…Alicia…Want me to call Peter?… Does it hurt anywhere else?...Lay down…Go back to sleep…Alicia…Alicia… It's Will...I'm not here to talk…M&M's anyone?...Wake up for me…Go back to sleep...Alicia…Can you hear me?...Alicia…It's OK…Alicia… I was waiting for you…Shut the fuck up…Bitch…Don't come near her again…_

My eyes shoot open.

I gasp for air.

The ceiling I'm staring at tells me I'm home. _Thank God. _

I'm sweating_. _The back of my neck, my forehead, my chest… I feel hot and clammy.

I lift myself up to turn on my bed lamp. An immense throbbing pain in my head forces me to close my eyes again. Everything hurts. I groan as a sharp pain rushes through my chest. Exhausted, I fall back in my pillow. I try to keep my breathing shallow, hoping it will reduce the pain in my ribcage.

I stare back at the ceiling. Any attempt to turn sideways just makes the throbbing pain worse. _How did I get here? _Dilaney, the ambulance… the paramedic telling me I needed to stay awake… Will.

_Oh God. _

_Will. _

Where did he go? I tense up as I realize he was the one waking me up somewhere this evening. Did he leave? Stressed out by the idea of him possibly still being here, I force myself up from my pillow. My eyes fall on the alarm clock that tells me 06:24. Next, I spot the untouched glass of water. _Did he put that there?_

_Where's my phone?_

I manage to sit up straight. The pounding in my head makes me close my eyes again. I need painkillers. I can't function like this. I keep my eyes closed for a little while and try to focus on my breathing.

What part of my dream was real? All of it? I touch my face and cringe in pain. This _is_ real. The parking garage was real, the ambulance ride was real, the hours in the hospital, the ride back home… It all happened. This isn't a nightmare. This is reality.

I push myself up off the bed. Grinding my teeth in pain, I slip into a cardigan and some sweatpants.

Carefully, I step out the bedroom. Supporting myself on the counters, I move through the kitchen and then my eye falls on the dining room.

Will.

He's sitting on the table, behind his laptop. His head rests on his arms. Sleeping.

I lean against the doorpost for support. The throbbing in my head tells me I really shouldn't have gotten up in the first place.

I don't make any noise. For a brief moment, I simply stand there and watch him sleep like that. _He stayed. _An incredible sense of guilt takes over me. He shouldn't have. He didn't want to. So, why did he?

I know, it's inappropriate and wrong in a way, but I can't help to enjoy watching him sleep. There's something about the vulnerability in his face that brings me back to better, different, days. I wish, I could walk over to him and rub his shoulders. He would rest his head against my stomach as I did, take my hands in his and pull me closer against him. _Stop. _

"Will?"

He lifts his head up at my voice. "Oh shit," he mutters. "What time is it?"

_Done dreaming._

"6:30."

"Dammit." As he looks up to me, I see how narrow his eyes are and the dark circles that formed underneath them. He's exhausted.

He rubs his face and lets out a yawn.

"Will… you shouldn't have stayed."

He doesn't respond to that and closes his laptop.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" I ask concerned.

"I wasn't planning to sleep," he scoffs at me as if it's the most ridiculous question he ever heard.

I simply nod. I have no idea what I'm supposed to say now. The throbbing in my head isn't helping. I want to tell him thank you. And to, please, stay a little longer. And that I'm so, so sorry.

Instead, I quietly stare at him as he puts his laptop back in his briefcase.

He looks at me as he gets up from the table. He walks to where I'm standing. For a brief second, I think he's coming towards me. But he walks straight passed me, inches away, into the kitchen.

I turn around and follow him. I see him take a phone charger out of the outlet. He walks back to me, my phone in his hands. "It still works," he states. "Just lost the battery cap."

He hands it to me. Carefully, making sure our hands don't touch. One quick glance at the screen tells me three new messages and nine missed calls. I look back up to him. "Thanks…"

He rolls up the cable around the charger and puts it in the pocket of his pants. "Couldn't find yours," he explains.

"Thank you," I try again, in an attempt to make his eyes look into mine, hoping he'll accept it this time. He doesn't. He just stares at me, cold and blank.

Next, he breaks off eye contact as he grabs his keys out of his pocket.

"Will…" I start. "Look. Last night is a bit hazy, but I know… I should have called someone else. I'm sorry, I didn't. I forced you to stay. I didn't mean to put you in that position."

No answer. The silence makes my thoughts trail of to last night events. I lost track of what happened once we left the hospital. _How did we even get home?_

"We drove here." He interferes my thought process. "Remember?" There's a slight worry in his voice as he asks me that question.

"Yes." I try to state decisively. I do remember. Vaguely.

I'm starting to feel dizzy again.

"What time did we get back here?" I ask.

"Midnight."

I nod. I do my very best to process all of it, but I'm still so numb. The pain is not only in the back of my head, I notice. Now that I started talking I realize how bruised my jaw is.

"Alicia, do you remember what happened?" His question is more demanding now.

I remember. I just don't want to look him in the eyes and think about what happened because I know I'll break down. And I don't want to break down. Not with him around. Not now, not how we are, not… "Yes," I state.

The dizziness is taking over control of my body once more.

"Ok."

"I need to sit down," I mumble and sink down in one of the dining chairs.

"I should go."

"Will, no, wait. Stay."

He frowns at me. "I need to go home."

"Will, I know. But you stayed up _all_ night. The least I could do is offer you some coffee. Or take a nap. You can use the guest room," I offer. "Really, it's fine. You need some sleep."

"Alicia." He cuts me off with a bitter voice. His cold stare tells me I'm not supposed to care, I realize. I'm not supposed to talk, and I'm most certainly not supposed to offer him anything. I don't remember him being like that last night. Then again, I don't remember much of last night.

I just nod. "Ok."

He walks over to the hallway to get his coat. I get up as well. He already has the door in his hand as I reach the kitchen.

I watch him stand there.

He watches me. Silence.

I stare in his eyes, and this time, he looks back in mine. It's not as cold as before, there's sorrow in those eyes this time.

"How are you feeling?" He then asks.

It makes me want to cry, that question. I'm _so_ tired. It hurts _so _much.

_Will, it hurts. _I want him to hold me, I want to cry and sleep in his hold. I realize I'm tearing up. I take a deep breath and regain myself.

I sigh and bite my bottom lip, fighting back tears that are burning up behind my eyes. For a second, I think he's going to let go of that door and walk back to me. He doesn't. Of course he doesn't. So I simply swallow back the tears.

"Better." I lie. But it's worse. _Much _worse.

"Ok," he replies. There's still this frown on his face. It seems as if he's asking himself whether he should hate me or not. It's the first time since it all blew up that I've seen him doubt that. It's been full on coldness all this time. Last night was different, but I was too out of it to really notice.

"Will, thank you."

He purses his lips and sighs. I don't get a response. He doesn't want to be thanked. He hates me for needing his care last night.

Without saying another word, he crosses the doorstep. I get some sort of nod. "Take care," he mumbles, but it doesn't sound sincere.

He closes the door of my apartment.

_Gone._

I stand there, staring at the door that he just closed. Then I force myself to move again and close the lock from the inside. My hands are trembling. I turn around and stare back in my apartment. I can't do this. I'm so tired.

I let myself sink down against the door and hit the floor. It hurts.

Everything hurts. Sitting down on the floor hurts, the crying hurts, my stomach hurts, my head hurts. Tears start streaming down my cheeks. The crying shoots sharp pains through my chest, and I just want it all to stop. Through my tears, I notice the red streaks on my wrists. It takes me back to that parking garage, to Dilaney's hot breath on my face, his knee pushed up between my legs and me panicking. I pull up my knees against my chest and hold myself, shaking uncontrollably. Exhausted.

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**Thank you for reading!**

_A welcome for the new followers, thank you for coming along! Please let me know what you think and if I'm still making you guys happy __  
_

_Preview for next chapter: _Alicia realizes she can't do this herself and calls her family and work.


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